


I am large, I contain multitudes

by UniverseInk



Series: Plural Tim AU [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Autistic Tim Drake, Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Tim Drake has DID, but like realistic and not demonized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29529621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseInk/pseuds/UniverseInk
Summary: “But people who get fear gassed, they scream, cry, try to run away.” Dick gestures wildly. “They don’t just…” He trails off, letting his hands fall to his sides while he stares at Tim. “They don’t juststop.”Tim has an atypical reaction to fear gas that forces Bruce, Dick, and Cass to link with his mind to pull him back out. Inside, they find a lot more than they'd bargained for
Series: Plural Tim AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169399
Comments: 27
Kudos: 150





	I am large, I contain multitudes

**Author's Note:**

> Now that we're out as a system, I can finally write this idea I've had for months and not worry about people figuring it out. We made a post [here](https://merc--ury.tumblr.com/post/642321621369143296/a-revised-introduction) explaining that, for those of you who didn't already see it on tumblr  
> -Merc (he/him or ze/hir)
> 
> Title from "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman

They have Scarecrow cornered when it happens. He lunges forward, yanking Tim’s rebreather from his face. Tim throws his arms up just as a burst of fear gas releases. He staggers back, coughing.

“Easy there, Red.” Dick says as Tim stumbles into his side. “I’ve got you.”

A creeping sense of dread envelops him as he continues coughing, shaking his head. He grips onto Dick’s arm as the world goes black.

They rush Tim back to the cave. He’d collapsed almost immediately after being exposed to the toxin, but he wasn’t thrashing or screaming, or reacting in any of the ways people usually did. Instead, he’d gone completely unresponsive.

Dick had administered the antidote while Bruce drove, and Tim’s heart rate had stayed in a safe range. Alfred checked him over in the cave, finding no signs of physical danger.

But Tim still wasn’t responding.

“I don’t understand, what’s happening to him?” Dick asks.

“If I were to hazard a guess,” Alfred says, running a hand through Tim’s hair, “I would say this was a mental issue. He may have become trapped in his head, reliving a traumatic memory.”

“But people who get fear gassed, they scream, cry, try to run away.” Dick gestures wildly. “They don’t just…” He trails off, letting his hands fall to his sides while he stares at Tim. “They don’t just _stop_.”

“Tim’s never had typical responses to fear toxin,” Bruce says. “They’re usually more muted, and he can control his responses. His brain works differently than most people’s.”

“What, cause he’s autistic?” Dick frowns. “I mean, you and Damian don’t respond like he does.”

“I don’t know.” Bruce runs a hand down his face. “But we need to reach him somehow, find out what’s happening.”

“What about Martian Manhunter?” Dick asks. “He’s done it before, gone into people’s mind when they got trapped by something.”

Bruce sighs. “I can call him.”

Dick nods. “The sooner the better.”

“Right.” Bruce moves to the computer, Dick taking his abandoned seat by Tim's bedside. 

He tunes out Bruce’s transmission to the Watchtower and focuses on Tim. He’s conscious, blinking slowly at the ceiling. Dick reaches out and takes his hand. Tim doesn’t even twitch.

“What happened?”

Dick jumps, having completely missed Cass’ arrival in the cave. She stands beside him, looking down at Tim with a pained expression.

“Fear toxin. We’re not sure why he’s responding like this.”

Cass movies around the gurney, leaning down next to his head. “Tim?” she asks quietly. There’s no response. “Robin?”

Still no response. Cass’s lips press into a thing line.

Bruce returns, placing a hand on Cass’ shoulder. “J’onn is on his way.”

Cass frowns up at him.

“He’s going to link us psychically so we can figure out why Tim isn’t responding,” Bruce explains. 

“I’m helping.” She says it with such finality that for a moment it doesn’t even occur to Dick to question her.

“Cass,” Bruce says. “We don’t know—”

“No.” Cass cuts him off. “I’m helping.”

“Just let her,” Dick says. “They’re close, she can probably help if he’s trapped in a flashback or something.”

Bruce sighs, but before he can say anything else the cave’s zeta activates and J’onn steps out. He hurries over to them.

“He has been unresponsive since he was exposed?” he asks, settling his hands on the sides of Tim’s head.

“Yes. We administered the antidote, but he hasn’t improved.”

J’onn frowns, eyes closed.

“What is it?” Dick asks.

“His mind is… unusual,” J’onn says. “But I will still be able to connect you.”

Cass nods sharply. “Three of us.”

J’onn looks at her for a moment before acquiescing. “Very well. Sit down.”

They take their seats around the gurney, Alfred watching from the side. Following J’onn’s instructions, they close their eyes.

Bruce opens his eyes to find himself in a room that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the manor, though he doesn’t recognize it. A memory of Tim’s childhood home, maybe. There’s a hazy quality to it that Bruce can’t quite describe. The room is richly furnished, with warm lighting and a large sofa across from a wall of windows. An armchair sits directly in front of the windows, facing out. Dick and Cass are beside him, but otherwise the room is empty. 

“We should start looking for him,” Dick suggests. 

Before Bruce can respond, someone comes running into the room, skidding to a halt in the doorway. He’s dressed in an early version of the Robin costume, and looks no older than thirteen or so. They stare at each other for a moment, the boy looking just as bewildered at their appearance as Bruce feels at his

“Aw fuck,” he says. 

“Tim?” Bruce asks.

“Uh… no,” the boy says slowly. “ _Damn_ , I was not prepared to have to explain this.”

“Explain what?” Dick raises an eyebrow. 

“Ugh, god, I did not sign up for this. Okay. My name is Robin, I use he/him pronouns.” Robin runs a hand through his curly hair. Bruce notes that he looks a bit like Jason had at that age. “For now all you need to know is that Tim isn’t the only one living in this brain. He can explain it himself later.”

“Like… multiple personalities?” Dick asks.

“Eh, basically.” Robin shrugs. “We prefer the term headmates. But I’m guessing you’re here looking for Tim.”

“Yes.” Bruce squashes down all the questions and emotions roiling in his head and focuses on the mission. “He’s gone catatonic. J’onn was able to link us psychically to bring him back out.”

“Yeah, we can’t find him.” Robin huffs. “He’s not in anyone’s room, not in the garden.” He makes a frustrated gesture.

“Where else could he have gone?” Dick asks.

Robin grimaces. “I don’t know.”

“On the roof?” Cass suggests.

“Huh. That’s a good idea. I don’t think anyone’s checked there.” Robin watches them for a moment, chewing his lip. “Just follow me and don’t wander off, okay?”

Robin leads them out of the living room and through a kitchen. Beyond that, Bruce can see a set of sliding glass doors out into a garden. “Where exactly are we?” Dick asks.

“It’s called an inner world,” Robin answers. “Basically it’s where we all go when we’re not fronting.”

“Fronting?”

“Controlling the body.”

“Oh.”

Robin turns a corner, leading them up a staircase. They find themselves on a landing with several doors leading off it. A young woman with long dark hair and tan skin steps out of one door, balancing a child on her hip. 

“Robin, have you found—” She cuts off, blinking at them. “Oh boy.”

“Haven’t found Tim, but I did pick up a couple psychic visitors,” Robin explains, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Bruce, Dick, Cass, this is Sophie. She/her pronouns. Sophie, you already know them.”

Sophie laughs. “Nice to officially meet you all.”

“You know us?” Dick asks.

“Well, I’ve been here longer than any of you have known Tim.” Sophie smiles kindly. “We’ve interacted before, you just didn’t know I wasn’t him.”

“You’ve interacted with pretty much all of us at some point,” Robin adds. 

Sophie nods, bouncing the little boy on her hip. “This is Aiden, he’s five.” 

“Hi Aiden,” Dick says. “Nice to meet you.”

Aiden tucks his head into Sophie’s neck. 

“He’s shy,” Sophie laughs.

“We’re headed up to the roof to see if Tim’s there,” Robin interrupts. “Has anyone checked up there yet?”

Sophie hums. “I’m not sure. Moss thinks he might be in the cellar.”

Robin winces. “I hope not. Has anyone checked?”

“Not yet. But we should soon.”

Robin sighs. “Okay. We’ll check the roof and then talk to Moss.”

Sophie nods, and Robin leads them across the landing to another flight of stairs. Cass waves to Sophie and Aiden as they pass. 

“Why do you hope he’s not in the cellar?” Bruce asks, once they’ve passed through the next floor and are standing in an attic. Most of the space is blocked by boxes and piles of junk.

“It’s complicated.” Robin reaches up and unlatches a trapdoor in the ceiling. He pulls it down, showing a square of night sky through the opening. “The cellar is where we keep traumatic memories, so going down there can cause flashbacks and stuff. Moss is the only one who ever does.”

Robin climbs up through the trap door onto the roof. Bruce follows, Dick and Cass behind him. The sky is clear and sparkling with stars. From this vantage point they have a view of a distant city, lights standing out against the dark hills.

The roof, however, is empty.

Robin throws his head back. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” He turns around and hops back into the attic, stomping over the edge of the junk pile. “Moss! Get your ass out here.”

Bruce watches as the boxes shift, and someone crawls out. They’re small, barefoot, and wearing an oversize sweater over baggy jeans. One large green eye peeks out from a messy curtain of dark hair. They drop down from the junk pile and stare up at Robin, unblinking. 

“You said Tim might be in the cellar, right?”

“I told Sophie. She didn’t listen.” Moss’ voice is quiet and monotone. “Will you listen?”

“Don’t have much choice.” Robin crosses his arms. “You gonna go look?”

Moss leans around Robin to stare directly at Bruce. “Scarecrow did this?” 

Bruce nods. “It’s a new version of the fear toxin. We’re not sure why it affected him this way.”

Moss nods slowly and turns back to Robin. “I will go. He could be remembering something you don’t know.”

Robin winces. “Right.” He turns back to Bruce. “This is Moss, they/them. They’re gonna go get Tim.”

“Can we come?” Cass asks.

Moss stares at her for a long moment. “Yes. If you listen to me and do not rush ahead.”

“Alright then!” Dick gestures toward the stairs. “Lead the way.”

Moss leads them back down to the ground floor and out into the garden. Early afternoon sunlight beams down on them, illuminating the flower beds and lawn furniture.

“It was night on the roof,” Bruce observes.

“Yes,” Moss says, crouching in front of the cellar door. “The inner world is not bound by the laws of the outer world. Or physics.” They yank the doors open and head down the stairs. “Stay behind me.” 

Bruce follows closely behind them, his eyes adjusting to the darkness at an unnatural rate. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, he spots a figure curled up against the far wall, hands buried in his hair.

It’s Tim.

Bruce steps forward, but Moss throws out one arm to stop him. They twist their head to stare at him, teeth bared and eyes glowing green in the dim light. “ _No_ ,” they hiss. “Stay here.”

Bruce does as they say, waiting at the foot of the stairs as Moss crouches down in front of Tim. Dick fidgets at his side, rocking on the balls of his feet. Cass lays one hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. 

Moss reaches out and settles their hands on Tim’s shoulders. He shudders out a sob. 

“Shh, I know.” Moss runs a gentle hand through Tim’s hair. “I’m sorry you had to remember that.”

“He’s—” Tim gasps. “He’s gonna—”

“It’s just a memory. He can't hurt you here.” Moss pulls Tim into a gentle hug. “I won’t ever let him hurt you again.”

Tim’s shaking slowly lessens as Moss hugs him, whispering reassurances. Once he’s calmed down, they pull back. 

“Better?” they ask. 

Tim nods. “I’m okay.”

“Come on.” Moss climbs to their feet, pulling Tim up with them. “We should leave now.”

As Moss leads him out of the cellar, Tim looks up to see Bruce and the others, stopping dead.

“I—”

“No stopping.” Moss gives Tim a gentle push from behind. “Freak out later, get out of the cellar now.”

“R-right.” Tim drops his gaze as Moss herds them all out of the cellar and into the garden. 

Robin pokes his head out of the sliding glass door. “Oh, you found him! Good.”

“What happened?” Tim asks. “I remember fighting Scarecrow, and then…” He trails off, folding his arms across his chest.

“Fear gas,” Robin says. 

“Huh.” Tim frowns. “That… actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Anyway, we should get you back up to the front. We’re currently catatonic, apparently.”

“Why is no one else fronting?” 

“Not sure,” Robin shrugs. “No one got pulled up there after you vanished, and we were more focused on finding you. I think it’s kinda like when we dissociate so bad we can’t move or talk, only no one’s in the front seat.”

Tim follows Robin back inside. Bruce, Cass, and Dick follow them back into the living room they’d first arrived in.

“Right.” Tim approaches the chair facing toward the wall of windows. He stops with one hand on the back, looking over his shoulder. “Uh, I guess this is where you leave. Things should be fine once I sit down.”

Bruce nods. “J’onn can pull us out.”

“Okay.” Tim watches them for another moment before dropping his gaze and sitting down in the chair.

Bruce blinks, and he’s back in the cave. J’onn steps away from Tim, who’s sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

“I take it you were successful,” he says. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Of course.” J’onn nods. “I must return to the Watchtower.”

Bruce nods, turning his attention back to Tim. Cass has climbed up onto the gurney beside him and wrapped him in a hug, and he’s watching Bruce warily over her head. 

There’s a tense moment where no one speaks as J’onn leaves the cave. Eventually, Tim sighs.

“Okay, before we talk about this, can I take a shower?” he asks. “I really don’t wanna have this conversation covered in grime from patrol.”

“Yes.” Cass pushes Tim to his feet. “Go shower. We’ll wait.”

Tim takes his time in the shower. He shampoos his hair twice, and pretends it’s because it needs it instead of admitting he’s procrastinating. In the headspace, Robin slings an arm around his shoulders. 

_It’s gonna be fine_ , he says. _They were chill about it_.

_You can’t know that for sure_ , Tim replies, shutting off the water.

Robin sighs heavily. _Remember when you used to be an optimist?_ he asks. _I miss those days_.

Tim snorts. _Someone had to balance out all your cheer._

_I’m not_ that _cheery, you depressed bastard_. 

Tim finishes pulling on the casual clothes he keeps in the cave, stealing one of Dick’s sweatshirts for moral support. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Once Tim is done with his shower, Cass leads them up to Bruce’s study and pulls him down on the couch next to her. Bruce takes the armchair across from them, while Dick perches on the opposite arm of the couch with his feet on the cushion. Bruce fondly remembers Alfred’s failed attempts to get him to sit like a normal child before turning his attention back to Tim.

“So… you met Moss and Robin?” 

“And Sophie and Aiden,” Dick adds.

“Okay.” Tim takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Who are they?” Bruce asks. “Robin used the terms headmates.”

“Yeah, that’s the word we use. We’re a system. That, uh, basically it just means there’s more than one of us in here.” Tim pulls at the strings of his hoodie, wrapping them around his fingers. “Clinically, we could probably be diagnosed with DID, but we’ve never actually talked to a doctor about this, and frankly the medical framework is really limiting, so we’re not really interested in pursuing a diagnosis right now. Especially since having a diagnosis on paper can cause issues with insurance and finding a job and stuff.”

“Slow down,” Bruce says.

Tim squeezes his eyes shut. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Bruce assures him. “You’re talking about dissociative identity disorder?”

“Yeah.” Tim nods. “Although we don’t really have memory blackouts, so it might be OSDD instead, but they’re basically the same.”

“Sophie said we’ve talked to her, and most of your other headmates, without knowing about it,” Dick says. 

“Mmhmm. I front the most, but it’s not always me.”

“And no one ever noticed?” 

“I did,” Cass says. “They… hold themselves differently. When I asked, I met Robin.”

“But mostly everyone’s really good at pretending to be one person.” Tim shrugs. “I wouldn’t have expected you to notice.”

“Now that we know,” Bruce says, “would they want to stop pretending?”

“Um, maybe. We… when it’s just us and Cass, we get to be ourselves, because she knows.” Tim closes his eyes for a moment. “Robin says yeah. But only around people who know. I… don’t think we’re ready to tell everyone else.”

“Okay, we can do that.”

Tim looks up through his bangs at Bruce with a small smile on his face. Bruce returns it. Cass taps Tim on the cheek.

“You remembered something,” she says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tim pulls the neck of his hoodie over his mouth, drawing his knees up to his chest. His brows scrunch up, but he nods. 

“When Jason first came back,” he says, voice muffled. “When he attacked Titans Tower.”

Dick lets out a breath. Bruce glances over to see his pained face as he reaches out and settles a hand on Tim's shoulder.

“I knew it happened,” Tim continues. “Just not anything specific. I was so _scared_.” Tim sobs, burying his face in his sweatshirt.

Dick slides off the arm of the couch, pulling him into a hug. Cass rubs gentle circles on his back. Bruce watches, feeling profoundly helpless. It’s hard to think about now, how vicious Jason had been. He remembers the injuries from that attack. Tim had nearly _died_. 

Bruce forces himself to focus on the current moment, where Tim is pulling away from Dick, wiping his eyes and sniffling. Bruce reaches out and places a hand on his knee. 

Tim flashes him a tired smile. “I think we need to go to bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

“Of course.” Bruce stands, his kids following suit. He pulls Tim into a brief side hug. “Sleep well, kiddo.”

“Night dad.”

Tim and Cass leave the study, headed to their rooms. Dick stays, leaning against the desk. He stares at the doorway for a long moment.

“Dissociative identity disorder,” he says, frowning. “How much do you know about it?”

“Not much,” Bruce admits. He shifts ‘research DID’ to the top of his list of mental priorities. Sleep can wait a few more hours.

Dick nods slowly. “Well,” he sighs, “we’ll figure it out. This family is no stranger to weird brain stuff.”

Bruce huffs a laugh. They really aren’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to make this a series, exploring a lot of aspects of plurality and living as a system. A lot of this is going to be drawing from our personal experience, as well as what we've learned from the larger plural community. Also, please don't syscourse in the comments, you're just gonna get deleted if you do  
> -Merc (he/him or ze/hir)
> 
> You can find us on tumblr @merc--ury (main) or @transrobins(batfam/dc)
> 
> Please comment or leave a kudos if you liked this


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